The Institute was under attack. Neurosis could hear the firefight through the walls. He paced back and forth across his workroom, deliberating. Destroy his research? Try to take it with him? Run and leave it behind? Oh dear, oh dear, what to do?
He wished he'd had more time.
The Council had told him to be ready to move, so he'd been preparing for that, but this was too early.
Finally, finally, Halogen's assistant answered the comm.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"Help would be wonderful, yes," Neurosis said. "We're having a slight problem here. I believe the Decepticons are attempting to capture my facility."
Silence on the other end for an astrosecond.
"Hello?" Neurosis said.
"Already?" the mech on the other end asked. "I don't think… the Council didn't say anything about… hold on, I'll talk to Lord Halogen and then comm. back."
The mech cut the comm.
Neurosis heaved a world-weary sigh. Politics. They wouldn't be fast enough.
Well, if he could keep the Decepticons distracted long enough, he might be able to hold out until the Council got here to save him.
Of course, the other option was to abandon them and swear loyalty to Megatron instead.
It wasn't really the Council he worked for anyway, and he was pretty sure his true employers wouldn't care whether he was working under a corrupt gladiator or a corrupt government official, so long as he kept his focus on what was truly important.
Everything would be fine.
The door opened with a bang and Neurosis stopped pacing and turned to face the intruders. "Good orn," he said cheerfully. "How can I help you?"
"Where's the head scientist here?" one of the mechs growled.
"Why, that would be me! Are you Decepticons? Is Megatron here? Does he want a tour?"
As if on cue, the big gladiator entered the room. He had to stoop a little to get in the doorway. And following him…
"Soundwave!" Neurosis said. "My dear friend! It's good to see you! How are you faring these orns? Have you figured out how to control your range, or do you just have processor surgery every few—?"
"You are Neurosis?" Megatron demanded, cutting him off.
Neurosis turned his attention back to the gladiator. "I am."
Megatron glanced at Soundwave, then back to Neurosis. "This facility now belongs to me. And yes, I would like a tour."
"Of course!" Neurosis said. "Come right this way!"
Halogen's assistant commed him again, but he didn't answer. Soundwave was undoubtedly listening in on his thoughts, and he didn't want any of the Council's secrets to slip through. He'd have to be very careful about that. He started thinking about some of his work to keep his processor occupied so he didn't let any sensitive information make its way through his processor.
If they left before the Council sent back-up, Megatron would probably want to take Neurosis and his work to Kaon. Hopefully this move wouldn't cause too many setbacks. He was so close to a breakthrough—he hoped Megatron didn't want him to switch projects. Of course, from what he knew of the gladiator, Megatron wouldn't have any silly moral qualms about the things Neurosis did.
Halogen sat with his optics shuttered, listening to the clamor around him as Councilmechs argued, threw accusations at each other and disagreed about what to do.
He was still trying to figure out how this had happened.
"...that's why we should tell the Autobots—"
"But we can't make a scene! The public thinks the Institute was discontinued."
"The original plan involved letting that information out anyway."
"What original plan? We hadn't even finalized the plans."
"How did the Decepticons find it? Who's in charge of keeping its location secret. Isn't that you, Ratbat?"
"It most certainly is not."
Halogen got a comm. from his secretary.
"Your Honor, Neurosis won't answer his comm."
Halogen's optics snapped open. "What do you mean? Why?"
"Well, I don't know, Sir."
"Didn't he ask for help a breem ago?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
Halogen frowned. Neurosis must know they couldn't coordinate sending him help if he didn't talk to them. So what did it mean that he was suddenly refusing to communicate with the Council? Did he have a plan for dealing with Megatron already? Was he offline? Had Megatron offered to let him join the Decepticons?
"Lord Halogen?" Senator Decimus asked. "What do you think we should do?"
The noise in the room slowly tapered off. Halogen glanced over to the empty seat where Alpha Trion would be, were he here. He was generally good at figuring out what to do in difficult situations such as this, though in this case, Halogen doubted he'd be willing to help them. He had always argued against continuing the research at the Institute.
Then again, he wouldn't have wanted to let it fall into the hands of the Decepticons.
"Lord Halogen?" Decimus asked again.
"It seems we have a leak somewhere," Halogen said. "It is possible that if we rescued the Institute and relocated them, Megatron would find them again. It may be best to let him take the facility for now."
"But what about—"
"Senator, you asked for my opinion," Halogen said. "Believe me, I have taken everything into account. My suggestion is that we let Megatron have the Institute, and do everything in our power to make sure the public does not discover what happened. If he destroys the place, we won't have to worry about it anymore, and if he does not, then Neurosis will be able to continue his experiments."
"But..." one of the senators said. "He'll be working for Megatron. Don't we want to avoid that?"
Halogen hesitated. "Neurosis..." he said. "Neurosis will never be loyal to Megatron. He may use the tyrant's resources, but the purpose of his work will not change. Besides, sometimes it is better to cut your losses."
The Council would discuss it together before making a decision, but by the time they put it to a vote, it would most likely be too late for anything but damage control. This wasn't supposed to happen—Megatron always seemed to find a way to thwart all of Halogen's careful planning.
He could let this one go, though. If they launched some sort of counter-attack, it could end badly and expose the Institute, and he didn't want to risk that.
He knew when he was beaten.
"And here's our greatest success story!" Neurosis said. "You wouldn't recognize his faceplate, since he now no longer has one, but this mech used to be on the Iacon Council. Shockwave was his designation. He is fully functioning, but only feels the emotions that we reprogrammed him with. He's completely loyal, and just as brilliant as he was before. As a gift, the Council let me keep him on as an assistant. We left him a little scientific curiosity as well as the loyalty."
Megatron met the mech's single red optic as Neurosis kept talking, babbling on about his methods and the progress he'd been making lately. Shockwave's gaze was not vacant, though, as Megatron would have expected. There was something thoughtful, penetrating, and familiar about it.
There was tension in his frame too—frustration, maybe?
Interesting.
"…and that's the five breem version." Neurosis said. "I could go on and on, but I don't want to waste your time. I presume you want us to move."
"Yes," Megatron said. "I want you to take the groundbridge shield off of the building so we can leave immediately."
"Of course!" Neurosis said. "Shockwave, please lower the groundbridge shield."
Shockwave nodded deferentially, but Megatron thought he caught a subtle hint of resentment in the mech's stiff motion.
Completely loyal?
No.
Megatron had seen this before—he had experienced it, in fact.
This mech was a slave, and not a happy one.
"Wait," Megatron said, mentally asking Soundwave if this mech was really loyal to Neurosis. "Can Shockwave speak?"
"Well, yes," Neurosis's optics brightened. "Some of them can't, or at least don't, after shadowplay, but Shockwave's quite the conversationalist."
Megatron looked to Soundwave, who half-shrugged.
Well, that was helpful.
Then again, Soundwave had seemed especially stiff and nervous since they had arrived here.
"I can speak," Shockwave said.
"Excellent," Megatron replied. "And you are Neurosis's assistant, correct? Do you work closely with him?"
"I do," Shockwave said.
"Do you agree with his methods?"
Shockwave hesitated.
"Oh, that might be a little too complex for him," Neurosis said. "Shadowplayed mecha tend to have one-track processors, and it's hard for them to make judgments based on—"
"I believe there are more efficient ways of performing shadowplay," Shockwave said. "And possibly other options to achieve the same results."
Neurosis stared at him, looking shocked. "You… didn't tell me that, Shockwave."
"You never asked my opinion," Shockwave said without any of the inflection Megatron would expect from someone who was offended.
Very interesting.
"Hmm," Neurosis said, still looking unsettled. "Well, in the future, maybe—"
"No," Megatron said. "I'm sick of your chattering. Be silent."
Neurosis was bad news. Soundwave was terrified of him, and he was far too cheerful about all the horrible things he was doing here. He seemed unpredictable too.
And of course, he was very annoying.
"Neurosis said you are loyal, Shockwave. Who are you loyal to?" Megatron asked.
"Well, to me, of course," Neurosis cut in. "And the Council. But you know, it shouldn't be too hard to work around that part. He's very reasonable."
"Hmmm…" So he wasn't really loyal to the Council, and he wasn't really loyal to this Neurosis mech either.
"Do you know who I am?" Megatron asked.
Shockwave shook his helm.
"My designation is Megatron. I am going to stand in place of the Council some orn. In fact, this facility belongs to me already. As such, I'd like to ask you to do something for me. Are you willing to help me?"
"That depends," Shockwave deadpanned. "On whether your request is logical."
Megatron made optic contact with him, then glanced at Neurosis. Shockwave followed his gaze.
"What?" Neurosis asked.
"This facility belongs to me now."
"You've said that several times," Neurosis said. "And I've told you I'm fine with that. We're willing to work with—"
"Silence!" Megatron growled.
Neurosis pouted.
"Kill him," Megatron said to Shockwave. "And I'll put you in charge."
Shockwave seemed to consider it.
"What!" Neurosis said. "You don't want me offline. I'm the only one who really knows what I'm doing here. Besides, didn't I just tell you Shockwave is loyal to me? He won't hurt me. I'm cooperating with you anyway. Why would you want to get rid of me?"
This mech was a tyrant. Comfortable, talkative, wealthy, and in the business of taking good mecha and torturing them until they were nothing more than sparkless drones.
Megatron didn't aid oppressors.
He freed slaves.
"As you command, Megatron," Shockwave said.
Orion sat down across from Yoketron.
"How are you feeling?" Yoketron asked. "You did well in your training with Prowl."
"I'm much better," Orion said. His processor still hurt, but the pain was mild enough that he could ignore it without too much effort. "Did you talk to Alpha Trion about the trial?"
"Yes," Yoketron said. "And he was about as helpful as usual… he did tell me that the point of the trial is to avoid fighting the memory wipe. If you can let all of your memories go without trying to hold on to anything, then you'll pass the trial."
Orion looked down.
He should have known that.
Deep down, he probably had known that. But as hard as trying to hold on had been, he was certain letting go would be harder.
"Furthermore," Yoketron said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "He insisted that you attempt the trial this orn. Though if you want I'll ignore that and you can take the orn off. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
Orion studied his instructor's faceplate. "You don't like Alpha Trion very much, do you?"
Yoketron sighed. "Well… no."
"He's a good mech," Orion said. "He can be somewhat stiff on the outside, but he was an understanding and encouraging mentor. I don't think I would be who I am this orn without his guidance."
Yoketron shook his helm. "I fully believe that, but it doesn't change my mind about him. Just because he was a good mentor for you doesn't mean he's kind toward everyone."
"Admittedly…" Orion said, "Since I've been appointed a Prime he's seemed somewhat colder."
Yoketron frowned thoughtfully. "Interesting. He may simply be busy."
Orion nodded.
"Perhaps, if you have time some orn, you could visit him."
If he had time some orn.
Primus knew that would never happen.
Orion sighed. "It would be good to catch up with him. But... right now, I should attempt the trial."
"Are you certain?" Yoketron asked. "We don't have to—"
"Yes," Orion said. "I'm all right."
Yoketron nodded and got up. Orion shuttered his optics, bracing himself for the data port to slide into the back of his helm.
He accessed the file on the data stick and the world around him disappeared into oppressive, inky blackness.
[Memory erase initiated. Beginning in five...]
He tried not to panic.
[…four…]
He realized he couldn't vent, couldn't feel his spark pulsing.
[…three…two…]
He felt for something, anything to hold on to, but there was no sensation, no feeling other than the dull throbbing pain.
[…one]
He started losing memories. Panicked, he clung to them, and agony blossomed in his processor. He let go and tried to calm down, but instinctively fought the memory wipe as cherished memories of close friends, good books, and quiet moments were all consumed by the nothingness.
And then there was a lonely peace for a moment, and the panic faded because he couldn't remember why he was afraid.
Orion gasped and un-shuttered his optics as all of his memories returned.
His helm throbbed and he leaned forward, putting his faceplate in his hands.
"Orion?"
The pain backed off and he shuddered.
That moment of nothingness was almost worse than the panic, in retrospect.
"That was much faster than the last time," Yoketron said. "But I think we're done for the orn,"
"No," Orion forced himself to sit up straight. "I'm not hurt," he lied. "That was just… more difficult than I thought. I need to try again."
Yoketron hesitated. "Please tell me the truth, Orion."
"I can do this," Orion said. "Please."
His teacher sighed. "Very well."
Orion took in a deep vent and prepared himself. He just had to stay calm. If he could stay calm, he could keep himself from fighting the memory wipe. And if he did that—just once—he would pass the trial and he could move on.
I followed Megatron silently through the groundbridge and back to the station in Kaon.
He transformed and I followed him as we flew back to the base, leaving his soldiers to escort all of the mecha from the Institute.
We landed in the courtyard just outside the main base.
There was a deep ache somewhere inside of me, but I wasn't even sure if it was physical or just emotional. Everything else was numb. Always before, I'd pulled back my range from mecha when they'd died. I hadn't wanted to listen.
I hadn't wanted to listen this time either, but I'd been trying to figure something out—something that had been at the edge of Neurosis's processor.
Something important.
But he'd been careful not to let me hear enough to understand, and then Shockwave had attacked him before I could figure it out.
Neurosis had tried to run, but there had been nowhere to go, not with Megatron blocking the doorway.
I'd probably never forget the way Shockwave had calmly, emotionlessly tackled him, slammed him to the ground. I'd probably never forget Neurosis's terror when the product of his own experiments had torn his chest open with bare hands in order to rip his spark chamber out.
But the worst part had been when Neurosis's spark had imploded. I wished I'd pulled my range back in. I wished I hadn't felt it. I felt like I had died.
I still felt dead.
"Well," Megatron said. "I think that was successful." Will Shockwave be loyal to us? I suppose you'll have to keep an optic on him… well, you don't have optics, but you get the idea.
I looked at him blankly, almost too numb to feel sarcastic.
"Well, what do you think of our faceless scientist?" Megatron was tired of my silence.
"He-e has hi-i-is own pro-ojects he wants to wo-ork on." I said.
Can't he do something about that stutter?
I could. I banished all emotion from my voice. "Give him enough freedom and he will be content to assist you."
Megatron nodded. "Thank you. You may go."
I nodded, then turned and walked away.
Neurosis was dead.
If I hadn't watched him offline—if I hadn't felt him offline—I'd probably be happy about that.
I went to my room and sat down on the berth. My symbiots could sense something was wrong, and they crowded around me, demanding to know if I was alright.
I didn't answer, but stroked the plating behind Ravage's audios absently, thinking as I waited for the numbness in my emotional core to fade.
Primus.
What was I doing here?
Megatron was completely certain what he was doing was right, or at least necessary. But then again, he was Searchlight, and Searchlight almost never second-guessed himself, even when he knew he was wrong.
I had made this decision to follow him, hoping I could help him, but so far I hadn't made much headway with him.
In fact, he was getting worse.
And I didn't know what to do about it.
Orion felt the world settle around him as his memories returned, but he didn't un-shutter his optics.
His processor ached, but it wasn't too bad. It would go away in a few breems, like always.
"Well?" Yoketron said
He sighed. "No luck. It's the same every time."
"The same?" Yoketron asked.
Orion un-shuttered his optics and looked down.
"What do you mean by that?" the Circuit-Su master prompted.
"Well…" Orion said. "I try not to fight it, but… the same things catch every time."
Yoketron nodded. "I suppose that makes sense. What do you have trouble letting go of, Orion?"
"My friends," Orion said quietly. "All of the sparklings I used to feed. Ironhide and Chromia and Perceptor… Megatronus…"
Yoketron was silent.
"But mostly Elita. I can't… We're trying not to drift apart, but we barely talk to each other anymore, and I don't think she trusts me… I suppose that's probably for the best, and it is my fault in a way that our bond broke but…"
He didn't want to let go of her.
"That is the test," Yoketron said softly. "You have to be willing to give up all of that."
"What if I can't?" Orion said.
Yoketron looked troubled.
"What if I can't pass this trial?"
"Well…" Yoketron said. "When you're in the simulation, do you know it's a simulation?"
"Yes," Orion said. "But even so, it's… difficult not to panic." Losing memories was horrifying.
"Perhaps you could stay focused on what you need to do if you try to remind yourself that afterward you'll get all your memories back."
Orion started to nod, then froze as realization dawned in his processor.
"What is it?"
"No I won't," he said.
Yoketron was silent.
"Not in the end. When I receive the Matrix… I'll lose all my memories from before… I'll forget everything before they designated me a Prime. I'll forget my creators, and all of the little sparklings I used to give energon treats to, and I'll forget being an archivist, and I'll forget Senator Shockwave, and learning from Alpha Trion and meeting Elita. I'll forget…" He would forget being bonded with her. He shuttered his optics. "I know I can save memory files and watch them later, but it's not the same. It'll be like… like watching someone else's life."
Yoketron still didn't speak, so Orion continued.
"That's what this trial is preparing me for," Orion said.
Yoketron nodded.
"But I… don't want to lose all of that. I don't want to lose myself."
Silence fell.
Yoketron was a long time in answering.
"I teach mecha to control themselves," he said. "I teach them how to control their emotions and their frame, I teach them how to control their surroundings…" he sighed. "But control is not always the end goal. Often, when given a choice, the easier path is the one where you will have more control. But it's not always the right path. Becoming a Prime requires great personal sacrifice. You did not understand the extent of what you would be asked to give when you were chosen. But you did make a promise. What was that promise, Orion?"
"That I would do all in my power to protect and care for the mecha of Cybertron."
Yoketron nodded. "Even if it means losing yourself?"
Orion took in a deep vent and nodded.
"You have to trust that giving up your memories will be worth it. You have to believe that your spark will still be the same. It is a terrible sacrifice. But you know, Orion, I've been around a while. I've seen many mecha become Primes. The only ones who lose themselves are the ones who refuse to let go."
The words hung in the atmosphere for nearly a breem. Orion knew he had to do this. He had already decided to do this. He had promised he would do this.
The Autobots didn't need a librarian.
He had to let go of his past.
"Thank you, Master Yoketron." Orion said. "I am ready to try again."
Yoketron nodded solemnly. "Very well. But only once more this orn. Then you may leave."
"But…" Orion said.
"I don't want you to push yourself too far."
"Three more times," Orion said. "I'll try hard to let go. I might get it on the first one. But if I don't, I don't want to waste time. We're still behind."
Yoketron hesitated. Then sighed. "You know, most of my students can't talk me into things I don't want to do. I must be losing my touch. Three times."
Orion readied himself.
He attempted the trial.
And failed.
He tried a second time.
And failed again.
It didn't matter how hard he tried, he couldn't let go of the archives or his friends. And he especially couldn't let go of Elita.
The harder he tried, the more desperately he needed her, and the more it hurt when she was finally gone.
He tried a third time.
And failed.
His optics opened and all of his memories returned.
Yoketron was sitting across from him, looking worried.
"I'm sorry," Orion said, waiting impatiently for his processor ache to back off. "I couldn't do it."
"It is all right," Yoketron said. "I think we need to take a break from this trial for a few orns."
"No," Orion said. "We can't. I can't afford to waste time. The sooner I complete the trials—"
"I understand that," Yoketron said. "But beating yourself uselessly against the wall is less productive than looking for a door. You need a break and I need to work on a solution."
"A solution?" Orion asked. "To…what? The trial?"
"In a roundabout way, yes," Yoketron said. "Hopefully… unless it ruins everything, in which case I think Alpha Trion will kill me."
Orion frowned, confused. "I'm… not going to cheat on the trial. I need to do this honestly."
Yoketron smiled slightly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tamper with the trial. That would be counterproductive."
"What are you planning to do, then?"
"Don't worry about it," Yoketron repeated. "I still have to think through everything and I don't dare explain it to you yet. For now, you are dismissed."
"But…"
Yoketron held up a hand. "You are dismissed. Get some rest, I can tell you lied to me about your helm hurting."
Orion looked down. "I apologize..."
"It's fine," Yoketron said.
Orion stood and bowed. "Thank you, Master Yoketron."
Yoketron stood as well and returned the gesture. "It is an honor to instruct you, Orion Pax."
Orion left the crystal garden, wondering what Yoketron was planning, but he didn't have much time to think about it.
There were a lot of things to do.
"What about this one?" Moonracer said, pointing to a symbol on the datapad. "We could do something like this."
Elita tilted her helm to the side.
"That one's too girly," Chromia said. "We're an army, not a fragging primary school."
She and Ironhide had had an argument earlier in the orn so she was in a bad mood.
"Hmm…" Moonracer said. "This one's nice."
"That one's boring."
"Okay," Moonracer glared at her sister. "You can stop that."
Chromia just scowled.
"Femmes," Elita said. "Please?"
Moonracer sighed and went back to skimming through the large collection of symbols. "We could just draw one. I mean, we've tried that, and it's never quite right. We could use stylized glyphs or something…"
"We already discussed why we're not doing that," Chromia snapped.
Most gangs used stylized glyphs in their insignias. The Autobots were not a gang.
"We should use something with historical significance," Elita said. "I want it to be meaningful."
"Meaningful?" Chromia said. "It'll automatically mean something as soon as we make it our official insignia."
"Hey, look, it's the Quintesson symbol," Moonracer held up the datapad.
Elita frowned. "Not that kind of historical significance."
Moonracer smirked and went back to looking.
"What about that one?" Chromia pointed.
Moonracer cocked her helm to the side. "That one's kind of ugly."
Elita looked over at it. It was roughly in the shape of a mech's helm.
"It looks kind of done with life," Chromia said. "Which is how I feel right now."
Elita reached over and tapped on the symbol, which brought up a small blurb about it.
"Hey," Moonracer said, yanking the datapad away.
"What does it say?" Elita asked.
Moonracaer studied the datapad thoughtfully. "It's from a legend," she said. "About a powerful warrior, who's in stasis until there's a great calamity of some sort. Then he wakes up."
"In time to save everyone?" Chromia asked.
"Well, one would assume so," Moonracer said. "That would be funny, though. 'Primus, I overslept…. Wait, where is everyone?' That would really rust. In any case, we can't use this one, it's ugly."
"Actually," Elita said. "I think I've heard that legend before..."
"If it doesn't specifically say he woke up in time to save everyone, you need to look up the legend," Chromia said. "I don't want to accidentally pick the symbol of a loser for our insignia."
"We can't all wear this," Moonracer said. "It's hideous. We're picking something else."
Orion looked up when his office door opened.
"Good orn," he said.
"Prime," the light blue mech stepped inside. "I'm sorry to bother you. Mainspring said he'd let you know I wanted to talk to you…"
"Come in," Orion said. He'd probably got a message from Mainspring about it, but hadn't seen it. "Please sit down, Blurr."
"Thank you," the mech said. "I'm surprised you remember me."
"I've seen you in the tower before," Orion said. "You're friends with Mirage, aren't you?"
"Yes," Blurr said. "And I won't take up too much of your time, but I wanted to offer something in support of the cause… If you run all the way through Mirage's credit, I can help with funding."
Orion blinked.
"It's the least I can do," Blurr said.
"Are you certain you'd be willing to—"
"Of course," Blurr said, "What else am I going to with it all? Besides, if war breaks out in earnest, I want to be part of the solution."
"Thank you," Orion said. "I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am."
"It's nothing," Blurr said, crossing his arms. "And I don't have quite as much as Mirage since my fortune is shared among multiple mecha in my tower… but I never spent any of my earnings from racing, and that adds up to a decent amount of credit."
Orion would imagine so. He'd heard a little bit about Blurr's racing record.
"So," Blurr said. "That's all I really had to say, and I don't want to take up more of your time. If you have any questions, Mainspring or Mirage can get in contact with me."
"Again, thank you," Orion said.
Blurr nodded, then stood and left, nearly bumping into Elita on the way out.
Elita stepped past Blurr, who nodded to her as he exited Orion's office.
Orion watched her thoughtfully as she crossed the room to sit down in front of him. He looked sad about something. Then again, he almost always did.
"How is your helm?" she asked.
"Not as bad as last orn," Orion said.
"Good. How are you other than that?"
He would probably tell her he was fine. He was a terrible liar, though.
"I'm all right," Orion said.
Elita raised an optic ridge.
"Stressed," Orion amended, "And tired. But all right."
There was something he wasn't telling her—something he didn't want to tell her. He'd admitted it once or twice before changing the subject. She had wondered, after hearing the rumors about him, that he didn't want to tell her he'd known he would become a Prime, but she was fairly sure he was telling the truth about that since she'd asked him.
She would probably have known if he was lying.
Part of her wanted to ask outright, to demand that he tell her whatever it was that he was keeping from her. But another part of her didn't want it to come to that. She wanted him to open up to her on his own. She wanted him to trust her.
"How are you?" he asked quietly.
Elita smiled. "Stressed and tired too. But I'm doing as well as anyone could expect given all of the circumstances."
Orion nodded.
"I've been so busy I haven't even been able to train with my sisters for the past few orns," Elita said. "Oh, but I still want to spar with you sometime. I want to see if I can beat you."
Orion shook his helm. "I wouldn't be surprised if you can."
"Really?" Elita asked. "Don't you train for joors and joors every orn with that Circuit-Su Master?"
Orion hesitated. "Well… yes, but I'm not very good."
That had sounded distinctly uncomfortable.
"I suppose you have other kinds of training for being a Prime too," she said. "Right? That probably takes up some of the time."
Orion nodded.
"I… shouldn't ask…"
"I'm not supposed to tell you about that part of my training," Orion said.
"Not supposed to, or don't want to?"
He wouldn't meet her optics.
She looked down as well. "I guess it's none of my business. In any case, some orn, you have to make time to spar with me."
"I'll try," Orion said.
Still very uncomfortable. "What?" Elita asked. "Are you really that worried about losing to me?"
"If you must know," Orion looked ashamed. "I don't like the idea of you out on a battlefield, or in any sort of danger. That probably offends you…"
"Well, yes," Elita said. "This is my fight too. But I probably won't end up on a battlefield any time soon—I just want to be prepared."
Orion nodded.
"In any case," Elita said, pulling out her datapad. "My sisters and I came up with an idea for an insignia. We were thinking of using this, maybe modifying it a little because Moonracer's picky." She showed him the symbol.
"Hmm…" Orion said. "I recognize that from somewhere."
Elita nodded. "It's from an old story. It's the symbol of a legendary warrior who goes into stasis to await a great future conflict. But by the time he comes back online, it's almost too late. He manages to save everyone, but dies in the process… I know that's kind of a sad story but something about it feels right to me."
Orion nodded. "I agree. Have Moonracer modify it, and we'll pitch it in the meeting next orn."
Elita nodded.
"Thank you for finding it."
"Of course," Elita said. "And… I should go. I have a lot of things to do. But it was good to talk to you."
He nodded, and she got up and walked from his office. She had a meeting she needed to prepare for, and she probably had a whole bunch of messages to look through as well. She opened up her inbox on her datapad and skimmed the list of new messages.
One caught her optic. Curious, she opened it.
[Elita One,
I know you must be busy, but when you have time, preferably within the next few orns, I would like to meet with you. There is a matter of importance that I would like to discuss with you.
Thank you,
Yoketron]